‘I’m a realist. Forest can clearly evade the police whenever he wants to, and he’s never going to relax if you’re shadowing his every move. That’ll do more harm than good. Don’t you learn anything about psychology at the academy?’

She gave him a withering look, then rose, straightening her shirt. ‘Enjoy your rooftop, Innkeeper.’

He let her go, watching the town from his vantage point. It was a hive of activity. Out on the water were coloured fishing boats sailing in and out of the marina, making up for the days lost to the Black Wind. A van pulled up below – a group of twenty-somethings pooled out. That would be the big booking for the inn today.

Forest was clearly a Dempsey to his bones; Dempsey boys knew how to keep secrets. When it felt safe enough to extend the boy his trust, he’d share all he knew. He’d been thinking about it all night, and it was the only way – tell Forest about the Business, and then together they would come up with a plan to take the criminal side out of it.

If Forest agrees.

He was young. He was traumatised. But . . . there just wasn’t any other way. Besides, Jesse, Davey and Mackenzie had all been brought into it at a younger age than Forest.

In the meantime, he had to make sure the police didn’t investigate Dempsey Abalone too closely – the Business was good at hiding its tracks, but without Davey at the helm . . .

Chips knew what she was doing with the day-to-day operations, and she had Ivy to look after the bigger picture, but between Blackbeard and the cops, they were more exposed than they’d ever been . . .

Ahab sighed.

I’ll have to help out the Business. Just this one time.

Ahab waited near the boatsheds by the marina, sitting on a bench rusted by sea spray. When Chips showed up, he saw that she was carrying two bottles of beer. A football jersey exposed her ropey fisherman’s arms, her sandy hair pulled back into her familiar cap.

‘I got your message,’ she said. She passed him one of the bottles and slumped down next to him. Her face was drawn, her eyes sunken. ‘Have a beer with me. For old time’s sake.’

He hesitated before he cracked it open. ‘For old time’s sake.’

Ahab had given years of his life to the operation, but when his own mother had fallen prey to ice, he could lie to himself no longer. But that didn’t mean he hated those still involved. He remembered what it was like, to feel like you were just a businessman. The world of drug dealing was alluring – the money, the adrenaline, easy access to whatever you wanted.